DivingBoard

As the dust settles on the multi-city, multi-party celebration of my 30th birthday, I find myself thinking about some of the major events and breakthroughs of the last few years. I will forever remember my 20s as one unbelievably amazing adventure, marked by moments of hilarity and grief, gains and losses, journeys near and far, by lucid visions of who I want to become and by muddled waters of uncertainty, by finding love only to lose it all over again, all in hopes of finding myself content and happy in my own skin. Those of you who are reading this and know me understand that this year has been an especially trying one. From being paralyzed with my dissertation writing and producing not a single page for at least 6 months to coming to terms with the end of my almost 5-year relationship with a man who I thought was going to be my partner for life—I honestly thought that I would come out from this year timid and cowering inside my hidey hole, deathly afraid of the big bad world. As January and February melted into spring, I felt myself so changed by these experiences that I hardly recognized the girl staring at me in the mirror with the sad and tired eyes, desperately trying to keep it together, quietly telling myself: “Breathe. Do not fall apart. Breathe.”

But this entry is not about all that was lost and cannot be re-gained, nor is it about coming undone, being destroyed and never recovering from the hurt of the past. Rather, this entry is about what happens when falling apart makes way for the process of putting it all back together where it once was, and actually, come to think of it, where it’s always been just quietly waiting to be recognized once again. This is about learning extraordinary lessons that come from heartbreak and taking these lessons and using them in order to live an even more extraordinary life. It’s hard when you begin to think of yourself solely as the other half of the equation and that you cannot possibly function properly without your other. I have always believed in partnerships and hoped that this one was actually going to stick. When it didn’t, I really didn’t know what to do with myself and it was as if I was missing the biggest and best part of who I have become. But see, that was the problem. This wasn’t the biggest, nor the best part of who I am. Sure, I gave my best and worked extremely hard to make it last, but at the end of the day, this relationship, nor any other relationship for that matter, cannot erase the fundaments of who I am, that I was whole before I entered into this “partnership” and I leave it, just as I always have been: whole and complete, unto myself.

This entry is all about celebration too—celebrating the friends and family who stood (or drank and danced!) next to me at the precise moment when I needed them the most. It’s unfortunate that it sometimes takes tragedies to help us recognize who are friends really are, but I think that it makes it all the more special when you realize who is standing with you when you are less than your best, when you are sad or pissed or full of self-pity or when you hate the world. This is the mark of a true friendship and I celebrate you, my amazing and beautiful friends—and you know who you are—who love me unconditionally and who recognized that behind my tired and sad eyes, I was still in there somewhere, that I actually wasn’t lost forever, like I believed.

Lastly, this entry is all about forgiveness. I forgive you, Charles. I do not say this to diminish the pain that I’ve experienced at the hands of someone who was supposed to love me the most and protect me the best. To forgive, after all, is a process and not some magic wand that can be waved and all of a sudden everything is okay and forgotten. I do not say this with an ulterior motive nor to incite some sort of reaction. Forgiveness is not meant as a catalyst for re-hashing the past or re-claiming what was once there; what is gone is gone and I have long accepted and made peace with this fact. I forgive you because I know that no matter how fucked up things got, we did have some pretty amazing times and that despite everything you will remain one of my greatest loves. I recognize that the life that we built together was borne out of a sincere and genuine love for each other and to forgive you is to honor all the happy moments that we had and to remember our life without remorse and regret. Lastly, I forgive you because in so doing, I also forgive myself. For so long, I internalized what was wrong between the two of us, as if I alone created the hot mess that we were left with in the end. I know now that it wasn’t all because of me and that I must be kind and forgive myself in order to move on and to welcome new experiences and new loves into my life. So I forgive you, as much as I forgive myself.

This has been perhaps the most candid entry that I have written thus far. Soon my stories will return to lighter adventures on writing my dissertation and dating men who will surely disappoint me or make me laugh, quietly hold my hand or kiss me with passion, men who will make me want to leave the date mid-way or those who will make me smile and swoon and love being a girl. I not only look forward to the infinite possibilities that my 30s will undoubtedly bring me, but I am also languishing in the present moment where I find myself basking in this wonderful life. So I say, bring it on world! And whatever adventure is ahead of me, I welcome it with open arms, from a place of peace and contentment, happy once again in my own skin.